Christmas with Darling
by Inari Kasugawa
Summary: Christmas' come and go, a few things remain the same. Francis and Arthur through the years have always been this way at heart. In these calm days, they spend their time unhurried.


Christmas with Darling

Francis woke up first that morning, surprised by the lack of pain in his head, even after all of the drinking that had been done. He didn't argue it, it had been a successful party, and the absence of pain was a welcome gift the day. He turned over in the bed, the morning sun coming in the east window, reflecting brightly off the snow, and was again grateful to be able to enjoy such a lovely scene. To Francis' left was his first gift of Christmas day -Arthur- completely cocooned in blankets. 'Can he even move?' Francis chuckled and wrapped his arms around the bundle of a man, rooting through the duvet until his lips came in contact with sleep-ruffled blond hair.

Francis breathed out a sigh of contentment and let himself doze, his face pressed into Arthur's hair, as he waited for Arthur to wake, something the other man seemed ill inclined in doing. "Mon amour~ Wake up, sleepy one, it is Christmas morning~" He remembered past yuletide celebrations with Alfred and Mathieu, still just children, barging in at all unholy hours of the morning to get the pair to _wakeupandcomeopenpresents! _

"Belt up, Francis… My head bloody hurts…" Francis laughed quietly, not wanting to further enraged Arthur, and got up to close the blinds. Arthur groaned in appreciation of the dark and buried himself again in the warmth of the covers. Francis pat the bundled blankets and put on some pants before going downstairs to survey the damage left of their party the night previous. Arthur could sleep a bit more. Besides, no one should wake up to the mess that Francis found.

Upon inspection, he found a pair of broken wine glasses would have to be repaired, and the stains of some drink that would have to be removed from the sofa, but the worst damage Francis could find was that the wooden frame around a Monet on the wall was a little chipped from having fallen to the ground as someone tried to grope their way drunkenly to their designated driver. Francis had the heater on and the worst of the mess cleaned by the time Arthur dragged himself, horribly hung over, down the stairs and slumped into a chair in the kitchen, blindly groping at a bowl of now stale chips. "A fine way to greet our child Lord this day, hmm~?" There was some mumbled swearing on Arthur's part, but it did not deter him from trying to consume more of the salty processed potato. Francis and put on some strong coffee, even if tea would have been preferred, and began boiling oats for porridge, turning them with milk instead of water. "You'll foul your stomach if you keep eating that crap, my love."

Francis hummed as he cooked up the thick meal, a Christmas carol that had stumbled into his head. Arthur only looked up and grumbled something about a prison sentence. The smell of black coffee was carried through the warming house, and soon the oatmeal too was done. Francis filled a bowl for Arthur, cutting up a banana and putting it on top of the dish, as well as some more milk to cool it, and set it in front of Arthur with a mug of coffee and a cup of orange juice. After some searching, Francis found the jar of Marmite that Arthur only ever liked on mornings like this. Toast with the dark paste completed Arthur's hangover cure breakfast.

Years of practice had taught Francis how to deal with Arthur's own special brand of hangover, treading lightly so as not to stir Arthur from his morning-after stupor. He pulled the chips away and had to remind Arthur the food was hot, and finally got himself a bowl of the mash and similarly cut fruit and poured milk for it. He finished and got Arthur the seconds he had begun demanding, his body still resisting soberness, and went back to tidy the den about the tree. A few small ornaments had been knocked to the floor requiring additional cleaning, but in all, the tree faired the best in the night. Francis set the gifts they'd gotten for one another around the tree, going back to retrieve Arthur and check upon his state; they could always open presents later.

Arthur was still half asleep when Francis found him messing with the oats and decided a shower, scratch that, a bath (Arthur would probably fall and kill himself in a shower) would be just fine to wake the man from his morning stupor. When Francis went to help Arthur from his chair, he was hardly surprised that the Brit leaned into him, following Francis obligingly to the bathroom. Francis left Arthur a moment to totter, encouraging the process of waking up, and set the bath to fill. Arthur still looked pretty out of it, eyes half closed; Francis wondered how long it had taken the other man to fall asleep, even with all of the booze that had been consumed at the part last night. "Blimey… My head…"

Francis turned back to Arthur and helped him undress, the smaller man sleepily compliant. 'He'll drown…' Francis started to strip off his own clothes and led Arthur to the tub, sitting behind him to keep him from slipping, which he seemed intent on doing anyway. The water was hot and soothing to both men, Arthur's body loosing up a bit as his head began to calm. "We'll open gifts soon, right Francis?" Arthur leaned against Francis, still companionable and not all awake. After a few minutes of soaking, Arthur took it upon himself to splash some water on his face and tried to properly wake up, though had there been a clock in the room they'd have seen that it was nearly noon already. Francis scrubbed Arthur's back with a soft cloth, both reveling in the peaceful morning.

The phone rang downstairs a few times before they started to sort themselves properly for the day, getting out of the tub to dress, combing hair and making the bed, opening curtains, a few kisses between both and wandering pats from Francis should he fancy it, though always answered with half-hearted chidings from Arthur. They meandered back to the den, Arthur putting a kettle on and taking another bowl of lukewarm porridge to sit in the living room with. A Christmas Carol was playing on the TV when Arthur came in, Francis' arms spread over the back of the couch and watching with partial interest; a small ad ran across the bottom of the screen, displaying the next run of movies, _Joyeux Noel _and _It's a Wonderful Life_. Arthur took a seat close to Francis and he moved his arm around Arthur's shoulders, hugging him close.

On the screen, Scrooge and the Ghost of Christmas Past were watching a younger Ebenezer speak with a young woman dressed in black, she looked to have had been crying, though it was hard for either to tell in the black and white, they knew just from having heard the story many times before. "Are you ready to open the gifts, love?" Arthur nodded and set the bowl on the table amid a couple abandoned glasses that would need washing as well. The pair rose from the couch and sat by the tree, picking up the gifts that had been sent from the others first. Some of the gifts included a few pieces of art work from the Italian brothers, bottles of maple syrup from Matthieu, an American flag from Alfred, some old story books and tales from the Nordic family, a few things not so appropriate from Antonio and Gilbert... Those would be put away for later.

Francis and Arthur exchanged the gifts they had gotten for one another, kissed and thanked the other, and called the boys on speaker phone afterwards; they'd just woken up and were about to start opening presents. Alfred babbled something about them traveling into the future to open their presents before the Hero, and Francis and Arthur could hear Matthieu sigh lightly at his brother's early morning ramblings. The scream of the kettle pulled Arthur away, coming back moments later with two steaming mugs of tea, just baggies instead of something tedious and fancy, and set them to cool. 'Thank-you''s given on both sides for gifts given and received, followed by goodbyes, Francis put the phone back on the receiver.

_Joyeux Noel _had started playing. Arthur, settled against Francis, played with Francis' hands, twined with his own. They each remembered back to that time, nearly one hundred years before, and other years like it, when they had spent their Christmas' in the middle of battles. Arthur just curled in closer to Francis, wanting to reach for his tea but not wanting to move. They watched the whole of the movie like that, embraced and being embraced, until the tea was cold and forgotten.

A/N: I wanted to do something… I don't know… _more_ with them than just the blind sex… I wanted to have something… just average. I'll post something smutty some other time… I'm happy to just have a bit of them being in love instead of rutting about the whole time.


End file.
